Asylum
by TheLunarNightStar
Summary: Reporter Kamyrn Church is assigned to write an article on a local asylum. Thinking she has nothing to fear, Kamyrn jumps headlong into the asylum only to be met with unexecpted occurrences. What awaits for her in the asylum? Will she make it out alive?


**A/N: This is a project I had to do for my class and I figured I would post it to see how many people respond to this. I would appreciate it if you would let me know if you want me to develop this into an actual story or not. Please review when you read. Hits are nice, but reviews are nicer! :)**

Darkness surrounded me as I stood in the middle of a long corridor that was seemingly endless. The air was thick and musty; an eerie silence coated the hall like a dense fog. I had no idea where I was or how I got here. Hell, I didn't even know my own name. I took a cautious step forward and suddenly plunged downwards into more darkness. The fall lasted forever until after a long agonizing year I hit a surface with a thwack! My breath rushed out of my lungs like air rushing past a fighter jet. I opened my eyes, squinted from the searing pain that lingered on my limbs. A bright light shone nearby blinding me. I tested my arms and legs, weighing the chances that I would be able to walk, let alone stand. My legs twitched uneasily as I pulled myself to my feet. My eyes slowly adjusted to the light as I stumbled forward. In the distance I saw a shadowy figure that resembled a pedestal. A freezing cold breeze whipped by me, blowing my hair to the side. I turned on my heels and saw an empty corridor. I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion before turning back around letting out a yelp.

A black haze in the shape of a man hovered above the ground. What would be his face was opposite only a few centimeters from mine. My breaths became intermittent and my heart hammered in my chest. I took two timid steps backwards but the figure moved towards me step for step. I turned and sprinted down the hall. After a few minutes of running, I glanced backwards and tripped onto the floor. I stared up horrified at the black haze. I closed my eyes and when I opened them the haze had disappeared. The walls began closing in on me and my lungs constricted causing me to wheeze simultaneously. Never before have I been so afraid. I counted from one to ten taking deep breaths to calm my nerves. Once breathing normally, I pushed myself upright leaning onto the wall for support. My shoulders slumped so that I was bent over my knees. My gaze swept the length of the corridor and I sighed with relief when I confirmed that the haze was nowhere to be found. I began my trek down the empty corridor occasionally glancing over my shoulder in fear.

After several minutes of nothing but pristine white walls and the clapping of my heels on the linoleum flooring, I came across a dark-stained oak door that curved at the top meeting in a subtle point. The boards held knots that were emphasized by the black and green mold that clung to the edges. Large pale pieces of wood showed through the chipping paint and a long, rusted iron bar stretched horizontally across the boards holding them together. To the right of the center of the door and three inches below the iron bar was the beginning of a long crack. It ran down seven inches and was about an inch wide in the middle. I knelt to my knees, my skirt rising above mid-thigh in the process. Trembling, I placed my eye near the hole peeking inside. I saw nothing but the same white walls and started to pull away. A faint tinge of red caused me to stop. I gave the door a good shove and stood still as it swung open groaning loudly.

Off to the left hand side, where I could barely see through the hole, hung a man with his wrists shackled to the wall. His head hung low, resting on his bare chest, with a steady stream of blood dripping from his mouth. His long, muscular legs were covered in a black fabric that resembled sweatpants. The pants had holes torn throughout the knees, an obvious sign that he had been on his knees trying to fight for his life. Lines of red, varying from short and thin to long and wide, coated his arms and chest as if they were natural. The copper scent of blood filled my nostrils causing me to gag reflexively. My hand shot to my mouth, but it did nothing to stop the vomit from projecting onto the feces infested, blood-stained tile flooring. My legs trembled beneath me as I staggered backwards out of the room. I collided into the wall opposite the door frame and shrieked with terror. The black haze was by my side within nanoseconds, its long arms blocking my path to freedom. I went to scream out again but to no avail for my voice got stuck in my throat. I cringed against the wall wanting nothing more than to sink right through it and be rid of this hellish nightmare. Acting against everything I was thinking, I lunged to my right and bolted down the long corridor that once again appeared endless. My eyes focused on the middle of the darkness, staying wide with hope that a sudden light will appear and I will be free.

_You cannot escape me. I will be the end of your life._ The appearance of the husky, monotone voice in my mind caused me to halt in my attempts to escape. I was shaking like a leaf head to toe and nothing I did could rid me of this tremor. A cold breeze came up from behind me and I whipped around to find the black haze yet again. The haze began to shimmer and take on a more definite shape of a human being. As the shimmering stopped an old man hovered before me with graying hair, a full beard wrapped around his lips, deep wrinkles and crow's feet that emphasized the bags beneath his eyes like sacks of water, and dark, hollow eyes. They were sunken into his skull, cheekbones bared through a thin layer of mucus colored skin, pale blue lips permanently pulled downwards into a frown, thick eyebrows knitted together in a scowl, and a look of scolding that haunted little children. He advanced three steps before halting not a foot in front of me.

A bright flash immediately blinded me and caused the apparition to screech in pain similar to caterwauling. I stumbled over my feet and collapsed to the floor in a heap as one of my heels gave way. Peeking beneath my arm, I saw a large hole close to the ground. Believing that this was my only chance of survival, I dove into the darkness head first and began crawling on my hands and knees. I crawled as fast as I could to try an escape the haunting figure. Small cuts formed on my bare arms and large holes now occupied my stockings. Mud coated my hands, knees, and face. I moved quickly as a small dot of light became visible in the distance. As it grew larger, so did my hope. I pulled myself out of the dark tunnel and found myself standing in an overgrown yard of decaying bodies. The fresh smell of skin burning ripped through my senses causing me once again to heave and disgorged what little contents were left in my stomach. I ran across the yard rapidly trying to block out the sounds of crunching beneath my feet. Finally I made it to the gate to find my rental car untouched. Scrambling into the car I shoved the key into the ignition violently. Taking one last glance at the building that held me captive I noticed that it was an asylum. A sharp pain jolted through my mind as images skirted across my vision, one image overlapping another before it could finish playing through.

Shaking off the last images I hauled ass out of the driveway. I made my way to the highway by memory, not really paying attention to my surroundings. I was lucky that I didn't get into a car accident. After a long while a low thumping began echoing throughout the interior of my car. Thinking it was just a flat tire, I pulled over to the side of I-78 when the persistent thumping became too much to handle. Shutting the engine off and moving to the back of the car I mentally laughed at the idea similar to _The Tell-Tale Heart_ and the pumping of the heart beneath the floorboards. I glanced at the tires and frowned upon realizing none of them were flat. So then, what would cause the consistent thump? I froze mid-step when the familiar sound of thumping resonating from the trunk of the rental car. My eyes narrowed slightly, my interest piqued at the ideas rushing through my mind like a great river. With shaking hands I unlocked the trunk and slowly lifted it up. An ear-piercing yelp emitted from my throat at the sight buried beneath. I quickly jumped on top of the open trunk door and slammed it shut. A muffled scream rang through as if it was as thin as paper. I relocked the trunk, scrambled to the driver's seat, and jammed the key into the ignition. The thump came again startling me. I turned the key swiftly and put the pedal to the metal racing down I-78. No matter how fast I drove, the blurred images flashing past me did nothing to rid me of the horror in the trunk. The man had missing limbs, deep gashes littering his chest, and his eyes! His eyes were so wide with terror and the pupils took up most of his iris leaving them black and haunted. He was the same man I found shackled to the wall inside the asylum. Everything looked so real, but how did he get into the trunk? How could this have gotten past the rental shop? Do they not check the cars? I shuddered at the thought when the thumping ceased. I dead panned immediately, heart momentarily stopping, before speeding up with the needle on my gauge. Even at 120mph the image remained burned into my mind.

"My name is Kamyrn Church, a reporter for one of the local newspapers. Horrible stories revolved around the asylum and my job was to investigate the happenings. I remember driving to the asylum and stepping out onto the gravel driveway. I can picture myself walking up the steps and through the main doors, but that's it. Everything after that is a blur. The next thing I can recall is waking up in utter darkness. The events that unfolded afterwards scarred me and I cannot retell the story. I'm sorry I can't be of more help, it was just too much for me." Later that evening I headed into my office and turned in my notice. There was no way I was ever going to go through that again, ever, not even if I was paid a million dollars. Nothing would make me return to that asylum and face the horrors over again. It was a hellish nightmare.


End file.
